


Intimate Friends

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1464844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius comes home to find Courfeyrac upset, and does what he can to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boots (pwnmercys)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pwnmercys/gifts).



> Platonic fluff. That's all.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

It was late when Marius got home, and he tried to let himself into the apartment as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Courfeyrac, on the off chance that Courfeyrac had gone to bed before midnight. He needn’t have worried — as soon as he got inside he could see that the light was still on underneath Courfeyrac’s bedroom door.

Well, really,  _their_  bedroom door — after all this time, Marius still had difficulty considering the bedroom  _theirs_ , even if he did have his own bed (the first night Marius had shown up at Courfeyrac’s door, Courfeyrac had magnanimously given him a mattress to sleep on; by the second night, Courfeyrac had somehow procured an actual bed, though he remained mum on the subjects of ‘how’ and ‘from where’, though Marius assumed Grantaire and Bahorel were involved, and the less said about the topic, the better). Marius couldn’t help but feel that he was still just a guest, bumming a spot in Courfeyac’s bedroom because he couldn’t afford a place of his own.

Still, the walk down the hallway was a familiar one now, as was the once-treacherous path of avoiding Courfeyrac’s things, which he had a tendency to leave strewn about because he loathed cleaning, and Marius was just about to go into the bedroom when he heard what sounded like Courfeyrac sniffling, and froze.

Was…was Courfeyrac  _crying_?

Tentatively, Marius opened the door and poked his head into the room, focusing on Courfeyrac, who was curled up on the bed, back to him. “Courfeyrac?” Marius asked quietly.

Courfeyrac didn’t roll over, though the sniffling stopped instantly. “Oh, hey,” Courfeyrac said, forcing his voice to sound like an approximation of his normal cheerful tone. “Didn’t hear you come in. How was your night with your delightful lady friend?”

“Fine,” Marius said cautiously, stepping into the room and standing awkwardly at the end of Marius’s bed. “Is everything alright? And don’t tell me that everything is just fine and peachy, because I know it’s not.”

Thankfully, Courfeyrac didn’t try to lie, instead just shrugging morosely and avoiding Marius’s gaze. Marius bit his lip, trying to think of what could have happened. “Did Enjolras yell at you for burning something again?” Courfeyrac shook his head in a silent ‘no’. “Did Enjolras yell at you for flirting with the waitress?” Courfeyrac shook his head again. “Did Enjolras yell at you for—”

“Is Enjolras yelling at me really the worst thing you can think of?” Courfeyrac interrupted without looking at him.

Marius blushed and shrugged. “Maybe.” He took a deep breath before asking, “So what  _did_  happen?”

Courfeyrac shrugged as well. “I don’t know. Life. Stuff. Whatever.”

Marius frowned. This was not at all like Courfeyrac normally, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do to help him feel better. “Do you want to talk about?” he offered quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at Courfeyrac, who just shrugged and didn’t answer. “Do you want to drink until you forget about it?”

Courfeyrac glanced up at that, half-smiling. “If I had wanted that, I would’ve called Grantaire.”

Marius smiled as well, though his was just as fleeting. “Do you want me to do anything? Or need me to do anything?”

Shaking his head, Courfeyrac looked away and was silent for a long moment before saying softly, “Just…remind me.”

“Of what?”

“Of why you care about me in the first place.”

It was Marius’s turn to be silent, and not because he couldn’t think of an answer to Courfeyrac’s request but because he could think of about a  _million_ answers to Courfeyrac’s request, and none were the magic answer that Courfeyrac needed, that answer that would soothe whatever was bothering him.

Abruptly, he stood, offering Courfeyrac his hand. “Come on,” he said.

Courfeyrac rolled over to look up at him, confused. “Where?”

“All the asinine times you’ve dragged me out of my bed at ass o’clock in the morning to go someplace stupid and now you want to know  _where_?” Marius shook his head and beckoned with his hand. “Just come on. Bring your blanket.”

Courfeyrac took Marius’s hand and allowed Marius to pull him upright, to lead him into the living room, where he sat him down on the couch and tucked the blanket in around him before asking, “What do you want to watch?”

Courfeyrac didn’t even have to think about it. “Star Wars.”

Marius didn’t hesitate before pulling Episode VI out and popping it in the Blu-ray player. When it came to Star Wars, Courfeyrac had times when he preferred to watch each episode (unless if they were marathoning all of them), and Episode VI was predominantly used for cheering himself up. Courfeyrac had loudly proclaimed once that it was impossible to feel bad when watching the ewoks save the rebellion (he was very passionate about the ewoks). “Popcorn?” Marius asked, hovering at doorway.

For the first time that night, Courfeyrac smiled a real smile at him, even if it didn’t fully meet his eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

He didn’t, not really, and so headed into the kitchen to make popcorn ( _real_ popcorn, not that microwave stuff). When he brought it out, he settled next to Courfeyrac on the couch, the bowl of popcorn on his lap, and pulled Courfeyrac close to him, letting him snuggle against his side until they were both comfortable in their cuddling position. Then Marius turned the movie on and they lapsed into comfortable, familiar silence as the Twentieth Century Fox Fanfare flooded over them.

“This didn’t answer my question, you realize,” Courfeyrac said quietly, about an hour into the movie, though his eyes didn’t leave the screen. “Why you care about me.”

Marius shrugged as best as he could with Courfeyrac’s head on his shoulder. “It’s as good an answer as I can give. I just… _do_.”

“Even though I’m a terrible person who gets upset at silly things?”

Marius nudged Courfeyrac gently. “Even if I were to believe that’s true, which I don’t, I would still care about you. And not just because you put up with me.”

Courfeyrac snuggled closer to him. “I don’t just ‘put up’ with you,” he told him.

After shifting his arm to a more comfortable position around Courfeyrac’s shoulders, Marius squeezed him gently. “I know that. And I appreciate it.” He nudged Courfeyrac again. “Seriously though. I love you. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Courfeyrac told him, his voice muffled against Marius’s neck. “And I love you, too.” He was quiet for a long moment before offering a soft, “And thank you.”

_It’s just Star Wars_ , Marius wanted to say, or,  _I didn’t really_ do _anything to help you, and I know you’re still feeling shitty and I wish I knew why so that I could help_. But he didn’t say any of that, just turned to press a kiss to the top of Courfeyrac’s head.

Sometimes, the best help he could offer was a shoulder and the reminder that he loved Courfeyrac no matter what. Even when the bastard ate seventy-five percent of the popcorn and had the audacity to ask Marius to make more.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.


End file.
